The Incident
by skittyninja
Summary: When Harry first arrived at Privet Drive, the Dursleys simply loved him. Life was looking good. But then...there was an incident. ONESHOT, sad.


**A/N: I'm not a newbie here; I've been on FF.N for several years. I just took a break from writing for...about 4 years, because life got in the way. Now I'm back with a new account, new name, and new ideas. Please understand that, usually, I write comedy. This idea had just been on my mind lately, and needed to come out instead.**

**(This is sad, but I actually can't remember what we call the thing that we put here..."Copyright Notice"? No..."WARNING:"? No..) Anyway...I don't own Harry Potter. And if I did...I wouldn't need to know the name of that thi-**

**...DISCLAIMER! That's it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter Series. :)**

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><p>'<em>Smile,' <em>the black haired baby realized vaguely. _'Big-woman-thing has a smile'. _Soon after, it occurred to him that 'smile' was a thing to look at, and that he rather liked it. The woman was smiling. Smiling AT him.

Petunia Dursley was, indeed, smiling as she looked down upon her sturdy and outstanding son, Dudley, and her tiny and adorable nephew, Harry. She had found little Harry around a year ago on her doorstep; she and her husband Vernon were delighted to have another child to love and care for. He was turning out to be a fine young lad and good playmate for Dudley.

"I love you, I love you, my sweet little babies," Petunia was saying to them as they all sat out on the front lawn that summer day. "My sweet, wonderful boys!"

She turned away for a brief moment to pick up a watering can and give a drink to her small but quickly growing garden. It was the one thing she was exceptionally proud to call her own, besides her family. She never could decide what she loved best – the pink roses that greeted her right near the front steps, the daisies, the wonderful but oh-so-difficult-to-care-for calla lilies…

Another smile graced her rather horsy and plain face, transforming it into one worthy of a starring role in a movie. The large, blonde baby was sucking away at his thumb and kicking his plump feet; the small black haired boy giggled delightedly. Harry simply loved seeing his aunt smile like that. Some day, he wanted to make her smile like that and be able to tell her he loved her.

"Oh…oh, dear.." Petunia sadly uprooted one of her begonias; the sun had fried and killed it, and the recent wind storm had pulled it most of the way up. There was no saving it now. The smile had vanished.

'_Bad, bad, bad!' _Harry decided. He didn't like this sad, scrunchy, crying face that the big-woman-thing was making at all. _'Sad, don't like sad…'_

"Well, my sweet boys…it's alright," she told them, sniffling. "Daddy will be home soon, and he'll have your sweets, Duddy. And Harry, he'll have those special papers."

She put away her gardening supplies and carried her two boys back inside to be cleaned up for Vernon's return, babbling away about Harry's adoption papers that could make Petunia not only his legal guardian, but mother. Vernon was bringing them home for her to sign; Harry would finally be theirs in every way possible. It had been a tricky legal battle, as his parents were dead and Petunia's sister Lily had given them some trouble in the past, when they had both lived at home.

But now…now Harry would be hers at last. She sat him down, nice and clean, to play while she tidied up Dudley. Her gaze, however, unwillingly went to the window facing the garden, and the dark spot where her dead flowers had been pulled out. She sighed, and Harry looked up to see her make the Bad Face again.

A strong thought suddenly entered his mind, stronger and clearer than he, at this young age, had been able to make before. _'Pretty flowers…make… the lady happy. Make the Bad Face leave. Pretty flowers…leave…and she's...sad. Need flowers for good happy time...need…to get flowers. Need…want…'_

There was a rumbling from the floor, and the walls of number four, Privet Drive shook until a picture fell from high on the wall. It was one of Vernon, Harry, and Dudley wearing matching suits. Dudley was throwing a fit and trying to rip off part of Vernon's moustache, while Harry slept on; it was Petunia's favourite picture of them. The sound of glass shattering sent her running into the hall, carrying a damp and disgruntled Dudley in her arms.

The floor had broken apart in several places, and massive green leaves and stems were pushing through the ruined carpeting. Once they reached a height of several feet, ridiculously huge pink begonias began blooming. Petunia watched, her face a mask of horror and pain. Dudley screamed and began having a fit, startled by the large flowers. It was then that Petunia noticed Harry wiggle his way out from under a leaf the size of a dinner plate and smile up at her. And then the truth hit.

Harry smiled up at her angelically and waited for her to exclaim happily, and to hug him and make a smile back. He waited for her to be happy.

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><p>A few hours later, Vernon returned to find Dudley playing in his high chair as Petunia fed him mashed peas, which he repeatedly spat out at her. He smelled smoke, and noticed that there was a bag full of leaves in the room. But that only registered in the <em>back<em> of his mind. First and foremost was to question his wife about the destruction to their home. He opened his mouth to speak, but didn't get a chance.

"They…they didn't all fit in the trash bins outside, you see. I put most of it in there, but not all of it," Petunia said suddenly, without turning around. Vernon was alarmed by the listlessness of his wife's voice, and that she had known he was there. For a large man, he was exceptionally stealthy.

"Petunia…what...why…" He shook his head violently to stop from sputtering. "Why on Earth is the hall floor destroyed? And…and where did you get such a big bag of leaves? And…and the smell!" He looked at her back intently, and was beginning to worry for her health. She seemed near her breaking point.

"I tried to burn some of it…but there was too much smoke…the neighbours...they would notice. Can't have them asking questions, can we? So I put it in the bin, and some in a bag, and some…some I just buried…"

Vernon looked around, hopelessly confused and uncertain on what to say. He settled for "where's Harry? I have his papers right here, and–"

Petunia cut him off, her voice like cold steel. "We don't need that rubbish anymore. That…that boy, that_ freak, _is NOT to be a part of this family!"

Vernon drew back, and even Dudley shifted uncomfortably at the venom in his mother's voice.

"What are you–" He began carefully.

Somewhere near, a baby began to cry. Vernon thought he heard it coming from the cupboard under the staircase, and was about to dismiss the idea as being nonsense, when he noticed his wife tense at the sound. She gripped the table with enough intensity that he feared her knuckles may break.

Petunia, little did he know, wouldn't speak again for weeks. She offered one last sentence before stalking out of the room furiously to slam the cupboard door.

"There's been an incident."

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><p><strong>AN: And there you have it. I'm sorry if I got any info on adoptions, flowers, or ANYTHING at all wrong; this wasn't meant to be a 100% accurate, amazing story, just a little oneshot to get me started and used to writing again. All the same, I'd love reviews. And if I did get anything wrong, feel free to tell me: I'd still like to know, to avoid future mistakes.**

**-(Need a new pen name) Kaceymort**


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